The Hidden Sibling
by Thegirlwhowaited97
Summary: Ella is a 17 year old girl that was raised in America her whole life. When she graduates from high school, she finally moves to London to meet her brothers. Especially Sherlock. What will Sherlock do when he finds out he has a baby sister?


**HEY GUYS! I've had this idea bubbling around in my head for a while now, and I know there are a few fics out there like this, but I wanted to add my own twist! I do not own BBC, Sherlock, or any characters besides Ella. Thanks for reading, please review! XOXO**

"This was it" I thought as I walked briskly down the rainy streets of London, occasionally hopping over a puddle or two.

Ella was a 17 year old girl, born and raised in Georgia, SC. She finished high school early, as she was home schooled, and excelled in her subjects, mostly science. She sped up her work so she could be free and move out of America, to the one place she longed to be.

I was finally in London! I've been dreaming about coming to the busy, rainy, yet beautiful city for as long as I can remember. My mom would tell me stories of when she lived here for several years as her "20 something year old journey" and how she met my dad in a little shop on the corner, and how she spilled her coffee all over him and that's how they first hit it off! I laugh at the thought of it, it sounds like something I would do. I got my clumsy nature from my mom. I take out my earbuds and listen to "All of the stars" by Ed Sheeren before I get there.  
>221B Baker Street.<p>

I take a shaky breath at what's about to come. About what I'm going to say and how it's going to impact everyone else.

I carefully walk up to the door, as if my steps were any louder, I would shatter the ground beneath me. I was terrified. My pale hands were shaking, and the cool October air could be seen in small puffs infront of me. I knock on the door, and no longer than 20 seconds comes a sweet old woman.

"Hello, is" I take a breath before continuing, as if it's gonna help me calm my nerves "Sherlock Holmes here?" The name on my tongue sounds foreign, but so familiar at the same time. The woman smiles and says "Yes, he is, I'll go fetch him! And oh you poor thing! You're quite damp, let's get you inside!" That's when I look down and realize she's right. I had been so caught up in not only my music and the sights, but my dark skinny jeans and black and blue striped long sleeved shirt were quite wet. She comes back with a towel.  
>"Thank you Mrs…."<br>"Hudson." She replies. "You aren't from around here, are you dear?"  
>I smile and start drying off my long, curly brown hair. "No ma'am, I just recently moved here, about 3 days ago actually."<br>She smiles in return "Oh what a pleasure it is to hear some manners from a young person now a days! Your mother must've raised you right!" She chuckles before guiding me upstairs.  
>"He should be in he-" She gets cut off by the loud sound of a violin playing a note, a bit off key, if you ask me. I play the violin, and that was quite rough. I giggle and walk in behind her.<p>

"Sherlock! You have a client!"  
>I look at her surprised, "Oh, Mrs. Hudson I'm n-"<p>

I hear a deep baritone voice respond "She's not a client."

I look up to see the man I've been waiting to meet for 17 years. Tall, and slim, with dark curly hair, and icy blue-grey eyes. High cheekbones, and a deep, pronounced cupid's bow. He's holding a violin, and gently lays it down on a chair beside him. He looks at me in mild surprise, mirroring my expression. We do look similar. Much more than I expected. His eyes slim, and he doesn't even look at Mrs. Hudson as he speaks. "Can you give us a moment please?"  
>"Y-yes, of course Sherlock." She goes and shuts the door.<br>This is when I finally notice a man in the chair opposite that's holding the violin. A short man with blonde-grey hair, and kind blue eyes is staring up at both of us, as if we're a chess game and waiting for someone to call checkmate.

"Who are you?" He asks in a harsh voice, eying me, and after looking at me for a good 20 seconds in pure, cold silence. "Obviously not a client, there hasn't been a case in almost a week and a half, and Lestrade hasn't called."

I sigh and might as well get it over with. "My name is Ella Louise Holmes, and I'm your sister."

I hear the man sitting in the opposite chair choke on his tea. I look down, concerned, before he waves it off. "I'm John, by the way. Friend of Sherlock's." I nod and greet him.  
>Sherlock laughs before moving his violin and sitting down, changing the subject back.<br>"Of course you're not! I don't HAVE a sister."  
>"How do you know?" I raise one brow.<br>"My brother and parents would've told me."  
>I smirk. "You mean YOU believe Mycroft now?" I scoff. "Thought you were smarter than that." He stiffens at the sound of his name. I continue. "So, what did you deduce from me, Mr. Holmes?" I take a seat on the couch and I hear my hip pop. Stupid joints.<br>He stands and starts to pace. "You're obviously not from here, given your southern American accent, and you're young, probably 17 or 18. Recently moved here, and have ADD, and don't think before you do things, and have an awful memory. You are slightly paranoid, and you also have anxiety issues, along with OCD. You're a gymnast and ballerina, and you are naïve. You're insecure about yourself, and you are very clever. You're a romantic at heart, and very sentimental. Oh, and you're incredibly clumsy." I try not to show that I'm impressed, I mean mom did tell me his amazing talents. "How did you get all of that?" I ask without sounding too shocked.

It's his turn to smirk now. "Easy. The accent shows you're a foreigner, and the wincing when you walk shows you recently moved here and aren't used to walking around very much, which also shows your paranoia, by not calling a cabbie.  
>And you're wet. You were going to grab an umbrella, probably from your hotel room you're currently staying in, but got sidetracked and forgot. There's the ADD. And the age shows you finished school early because you're very clever. You keep eyeing the picture on the wall that's slightly crooked, which tells me you're OCD.<br>Your nails are uneven and bitten, and you keep looking away and find it hard to make eye contact, thus the anxiety. You moved to London after hearing about me for so many years, and you're subconsciously humming an Ed Sheeran song, which not only shows your lack of good music taste, but probably a dreamer as well. You have good posture and the way you carry yourself shows that you're a ballerina, not to mention you're pointing your toes."  
>I look down at my crossed legs and see he's correct. "And I'm pretty certain not many teenagers hip pops unless they're in some sort of sport which involves flexability. Your posture shows that you're insecure, and the amount of times you've looked at the floor. The bruises on your arms aren't from any form of abuse or animal, they're in the typical spots you'd hit on a table, chair, ect.<br>Also, the scuff marks on your boots shows you trip quite a bit. And the ring you're wearing on your right ring finger shows sentiment. It's old. Not old enough for a mother to give, but a grandmother. It's polished, which means you and good care of it, and there isn't any lines where it's been taken off, which shows you care about it and always wear it. I doubt if it was from another family member you would be so careful with it as well, as it's probably the only thing you have left from her, so obviously dead grandparent, and you wouldn't treat it so well, as black hills gold isn't that precious. And most likely grandmother guessing by the style of the ring."  
>He finishes with a flourish of "Look how clever I am".<br>I slowly smile, and that turns into a giggle, which in turns to a fit of laughter. He frowns, and demands to know what I'm laughing at, all while John looks completely lost. I manage to calm my laughter.  
>"You're just like mom told me."<br>I get serious and stand up, walking close up to Sherlock.  
>"Don't you see it?" I point to my hair.<br>"We have the same dark, curly hair, same bone structure." I pointed to our cheekbones. "I got mom's green eyes, as where you got dad's bright, icy blue ones. Our complexion is equally pale, and as where my stature may be 5 foot 3, we both are slim and not to mention clever."  
>I grin as I give this tidbit of information. "Oh, and I also play the violin."<br>I walk out for a moment, but not before turning around to see Sherlock's astounded face as he might just be truly seeing me for me, his sister, and not just someone to deduce. I turn to John. "Where's the restroom?" Closing his gaping mouth that resembles a fish, he points down the hall. "3rd door on your right."  
>"Thanks!" I grin and shut the door. I press up my ear to the door and listen.<p>

"John, this is NOT happening! I cannot have a baby sister, Mum and Dad would've told me! Mycroft as well!" I hear John sigh.

"Well Sherlock, there has to be an explanation as to why you haven't heard of her until now, I mean you two look like twins! You can't deny this. Yes it's a bit far-fetched, but I believe her for some reason."

I hear Sherlock mumble something incoheirent before responding.

"I WILL figure out what's going on here, but I can't have my possible sister just roaming around! This ISN'T LOGICAL." I walk back in. Sherlock is sitting down, head in hands, grabbing his hair. John looks back at me sympathetically, and I nod. I slowly walk up to Sherlock and start to explain. He deserves this at least.

"Sherlock, I know this is crazy, and you may never believe me. But this is the truth."  
>He looks up at me and waits for an explanation, crossing his arms.<br>"Mom told me ever since I was little that I had two big brothers. That they went to live with our dad's grandmother in London, to get a higher education then she could give you two."  
>He nods, confirming this true.<br>"She obviously never ended up telling you two about me. She planned to right after she got the results that she was having another kid, but there were...complications."  
>I took a breath and continued. "around 8 weeks, my mom-well...our mom...got Toxoplasmosis. Basically a disease, a parasite, transmitted through cats." I rolled my eyes. "Of course she had to have that stupid cat." I mumbled under my breath.<br>"Anyway, it was an infection, and not serious to mom, and while it isn't easily transmitted, the risk to a developing baby can be serious. Brain damage, seizures and blindness can occur in babies who are infected. In some cases, blindness may develop 15-17 years after the infection occurs."

Sherlock looks almost...sad now. I didn't know he could even experience that emotion. I wiped the surprise off my face, shook my head and went on.  
>"Basically, she didn't want you two knowing about me and this disease, worrying that you two would worry and it would distract you from your studies..."<p>

Sherlock scoffed and I gave him a glare.

"She didn't think I would survive it, so she pretended to y'all that I didn't exist, in case I didn't make it, to protect you or something I guess. When I did make it...she THEN decided she wanted to wait until I was 17, basically out of the possibility of "going blind" stage, to meet y'all. But she always did promise she would let me meet y'all two if I made it to 17 and still had my sight, because in her words "I think it would cause them too much stress or anger towards me otherwise" And once I finished high school, her and dad decided to move to Florida to retire, and as I hate Florida and the heat, it was decided I would move to London to live with one of you…"  
>I see his eyes get wide.<br>"But I picked you."  
>He glares down at me, not angry, but wary.<br>"Why me? Not that I'm gonna let some STRANGER waltz in here and live with me and John." I sigh again.  
>"Just by hearing about YOU, Sherlock. YOUR deduction skills and what YOU were like, I just…I don't…"<br>My breath caught in my throat, and I cut off my speech before I started to cry, tears stinging at the back of my eyes. I clear my throat and try again.  
>"I wanted to meet you the most. I never knew you until now, and just…SEEING you and how much we look alike just makes me want to get to know you even more, because we may have never lived together, and I may have never known your quirky habits, or how you like your tea or that you play the violin. I just know that you're my older brother. And I love you, no matter if you want me or not."<p>

My lip starts to tremble, and I sit down on the couch again, and put my head in my hands, similar to what Sherlock probably looked like earlier. Silent tears wrack my body before I feel a comforting embrace. I look up and Sherlock is holding me, and John looks gobsmacked, like he never does this.  
>I stand up and hug him back with the love of a sister that has been waiting for so long. He pulls away and looks down at me, smiling for what I think is the first time since I got here.<br>"Give me a legitimate birth certificate, I'll run a blood test, and if you match…." I hold my breath.  
>"Then you can stay."<br>I press my hands to my mouth in joy, before giving Sherlock a giant hug again, and then running over to John and giving him one as well. He laughs and returns the hug. I just know, this is where I'm meant to be.

TWO WEEKS LATER.

They let me stay inside the place, (Well, Mrs. Hudson mostly, as she is the landlord.) until the blood results came back. As suspected, they came back positive, and I started to officially move in. AKA, unpack my suitcases into my own bedroom. Me and Sherlock have grown closer in the past two weeks, and John is like a best friend. I met Mycroft, and he was a bit less shocked than Sherlock, and took it quite well. I still chose Sherlock to live with. It was weird...almost like we had a stronger connection. I followed them on a few cases, and endured shooting at walls and late night violin playing. I showed him how to play that note CORRECTLY, and now it's a *bit* more tolerable. ;) I cannot wait to see what is in store for us next. I'm just thankful I'm finally united with my brother(s). :)


End file.
